


Malédiction

by clairey_nuffin



Category: Original Work, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Gen, Original Fiction, Pirates, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 17:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairey_nuffin/pseuds/clairey_nuffin
Summary: Crown, Jungkook;Cursed, Jimin;Cast-off, Jin;Seer, Namjoon;Seeker, Yoongi;Sought, Taehyung;Catalyst, Hoseok





	1. Chapter 1

The city glittered like a priceless pearl underneath the cerulean sky. Spires and towers gleamed in the afternoon sun and surrounded the glorious hall that presided over the city. The walls inside were painted like a sunset and the beauty of each room was surpassed by the next. Soft blues, pinks, and gold leaf decorated each one but the throne room was the most splendid of all. Shining glass windows that let in the setting sun, were captured in artfully crafted wrought iron. The floor was white marble stones with grey veins running through. Even in the afternoon heat, the room was cool and calm. The throne that sat at the end of the long room was empty, and the king who should be in it was leaning against the golden arm, eyes glazed; lost in thought. Jungkook was young, too young for the cares of state and business to weigh so heavily on his shoulders. The rugged boyishness of youth hadn't quite left his face, and though broad shoulders could lend themselves to manhood, it was obvious to all his subjects that their king was after all, only a boy.   
He straightened, and walked purposefully out, intent on finding his council, burdened with the hope of a new idea. The object of his thoughts and worries, lay in bed, far away from him, in a tower on the edge of the mansion grounds. Jimin thrashed and shivered, twisting the soft sheets between his legs, and scattering pillows and books from his bed. A forgotten cup near his foot went flying and crashed to the floor, jerking him from his restless sleep. As rational thought came back and his night terrors dissipated, he groaned and rolled of the bed, walking over to the small window, the only one in his tower room. The sun had set now and the sky was purple and blue, only a faint line of bright orange was left behind. It looked bruised and he sighed. His own depressive outlook often poisoned such simple pleasures like enjoying the sunset. He turned away and readied himself for the long night. The fae-folk of the forest invited him every night to join them in their revelry, and he always accepted, hoping to gain favor with those who possessed strange power.   
Jimin grumbled to himself as he tucked in an excessively frilly white shirt to ridiculously tight black pants. The faeries had graciously supplied him with the most appealing clothes and he didn't dare snub them by not wearing them, silly and tight-fitting though they may be. At least the coat is pretty, he thought, tugging the black satin jacket on. It had beautiful hand-stitched flowers and vines decorating the lapels which, sadly, matched the garish low-heeled boots that completed the outfit. He looked dashing and charming and he hated it. The clothes were comfortable, at least; they couldn't have their honored guest get tired or uncomfortable before the night was over. Familiar dread settled in his stomach and made him grimace. He needed to see Jungkook before he left for the evening. His nightly excursions couldn't be tolerated for much longer, or Jimin felt like he would crack. His stepbrother had better have come up with something to get the curse on Jimin lifted. For now, dancing and singing, and when the dawn comes more dream-filled, restless...rest, he thought, bitterly. He crossed the room and lifted the trap door to descend his tower, the fae no doubt already waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jin!"  
The distressed young woman dashed across the street, her skirts ruffled by the wind and passersby. As she reached the vague figure hunched against the tavern, his knees buckled and she barely had time to catch him. 

"What are you doing ...what's wrong?"

"Sorry, Nora," he mumbled, head leaning on her shoulder. "I...I just needed…" His voice drifted off and she leaned him up against the brick wall behind him. She gasped when her hand touched blood around his shoulder as she propped him up.  
"Jin, wake up," she said, urgently, but his head just lolled to the side, and she struggled to keep him upright. "Jin, please, wake up!" She jerked him by his shoulders, tears pricking her eyes as he groaned and looked at her grimacing. 

"It's just a scratch," he said, but his voice was strained and she quickly hustled him inside the tavern. The backroom he found himself in was dimly lit and cramped, stools and tankards thrown haphazardly onto battered shelves to his left and a wooden table pushed against the wall taking up almost all of the rest of the room. Nora maneuvered him into it, leaning his back against the wall and rushed out to find bandages. He closed his eyes, and groaned, the pain coursing through his shoulder in waves. Jin quickly pushed it down when he heard approaching footsteps and tried to maintain a somewhat serene face but settled for a light grimace instead. 

"You look awful," she said, pausing for a moment in the hallway that led to the rest of the noisy tavern. Even in here he could hear the boisterous guests.  
"Sorry, I can't be handsome for you all the time."  
Nora smirked, and started ripping the fabric of his shirt off around his shoulder.  
"Hey! This is satin!" He jerked away, aghast, but whined as the sharp movement brought on another wave of pain.  
"Sit still," she hissed, "no one knows you're back here, and I'd like to keep it that way. If you bleed out and die, I'll make sure to mend it for your burial."  
He gasped in mock horror, but stayed still as she tended to the cut in his shoulder.  
"I know I shouldn't ask," she said, "but what happened?" Her voice was quiet and serious.  
Jin looked away and sighed. "Nothing that you need to know, honestly. I was just being stupid-"  
"As usual."  
He glared at her then sighed again. "I misjudged...everything. How are you faring? Dimitri treating you alright?"

It was her turn to glare. "Don't try and make this about me. He's as horrid as usual, nothing I can't handle though."  
She paused in her ministrations and her gaze turned soft. "This isn't how it was supposed to be, is it? When we left?"  
"Escaped, you mean. No, it wasn't." He laughed, bitterly. "Living hand to mouth and being abused by a-"

"Stop." Nora turned away but he grabbed her hands. 

"Nora, this was only supposed to be temporary."  
She turned back, anguish and long-suppressed sadness etched in her features. Jin shifted to sit up straighter, pulling her to sit beside him on the table. "Only supposed to be until I could find my-" he paused abruptly "...nevermind. We both knew that would never happen. Just find...peace. Happiness, maybe."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I know." Her voice was hoarse and barely there. 

"Nora!" A loud voice jerked them both out of their thoughts and Nora quickly brushed the tears from her face.  
"I'll be back as soon as I can, don't go anywhere," she said, all business now. She bustled out, leaving Jin alone with his ever increasing sadness threatening to swallow him whole. He felt responsible, in a way, for how their lives had turned out. If he had done what he promised her four years ago, they would be alright, at least. Disgust, anger, frustration, and pain pushed at the walls of his mind, making him want to sleep. Coma, maybe. Jin leaned his head back and decided to rest, but just for a moment.


	3. Chapter 3

The most shadowy corner of the tavern was the perfect perch for Yoongi. He could see all the goings on in the motley crowd, but few could see him. The friendly blonde waitress lounging in the corner surrounded by a few too many drunken men. The old man whose drooping head was coming dangerously close to his tankard of beer. The other waitress who just emerged from the hidden back hallway after the portly owner bellowed an indistinguishable name. She looked flustered, wisps of hair slipping out of her bun. She was purposefully hunching her shoulders and her clothes were ill-fitting, hiding a rather young woman. She had dark circles under her eyes and her pinched, frowning face aged her a bit. The girl was hiding something, he decided, and he rather wanted to know what it was. Too many unsavory individuals here had something to hide, but the something she had, was most likely in the back room. The roof on the tavern was just a hair too large to be over this room only.   
His observations were interrupted by a tussle by the bar top. The mousy waitress was trying to jerk away from a burly soldier-looking type, whose lecherous grin Yoongi could smell from here. The brute wiping dishes behind the bar wasn't doing anything for the poor girl, and a small group of the perverts friends were starting to gather around. There was a small part of him that felt like it should go over and rescue the damsel in distress. Yoongi doused that part of him with the last swallow of his disgusting beer, and snuck along the edge of the room, back through the dark hall. 

"Get off me!" Nora almost growled at the man holding her arm. His sweaty hands were on her arm and one was on her waist, and creeping lower as he tried to pull her closer to himself.  
"What's wrong, pretty? Nobody been giving you any attention?" His friends around them starting jeering and laughing, the beer in their veins encouraging their raucous behavior. Dimitri had disappeared, and Nora couldn't even see Anya through the crush of men around her.   
She tried one more time to pull away, crying out when he responded by twisting her arm behind her back, facing her towards his disgusting friends. His lips were dangerously close to her ear and she squirmed in his hold, pain shooting up her arm. "Don't struggle, pretty girl. I only want a kiss." His laugh was booming and set the others off as well, but she could tell he was doing it for show. She wasn't anything to look twice at, she'd made sure of that, but he needed to impress. Drunk as he was, his hands weren't letting up, but some flattery, empty promises, and a few more beers, might do the trick.   
She stopped struggling for a moment to grab another beer from an unsuspecting fellow to give to the man behind her, but not before taking a grimacing swallow herself. The laughter in the group died down a bit as they watched her. She winked over the edge of the mug as she took another sip, then passed it over her head to the man holding her arm. His friends looked perplexed, but he grunted and took it gulping the rest of it down. She took advantage of his relaxed grip to twist away, but not before promising more beer, this time on the house. They cheered, even as their victim hastily filled more tankards. She continued to provide the group with beer, and play their game with flirting and even tried batting her eyelashes, whether it worked or not, they were too drunk to care. She appeased the foul one with a promise of a kiss if he came back tomorrow. She was pushing her luck, and would pay for that beer later, she knew, but right now, she had to keep them happy; she had to get back to Jin.


	4. Chapter 4

The council of Ciordire was sat in a lower fortified room in the Great Hall. Jungkooks steps were quick and sure, down the long, sunset-lit hallway, but his heart did not match them. The thought of presenting yet another idea to his counselors about his stepbrother's curse settled a knot of dread in his stomach. The years that Jimin had suffered were weighing on not just him anymore. Jungkook's heart was heavy but determined as he pushed open the doors. Solid, heavy oak, swung open just a bit too easy and loudly announced his entrance. He barely cringed, but steeled himself and strode to his chair at the head. Each of his counselors were hand-picked by the guilds in the city, most powerful of those were the fishing and trading guilds, so members with those interests at heart were prominent. All had to be appeased. The strain of worry for his stepbrother and the tension of his subjects and counselors felt as palpable as the heavy air of the room. Dark, gleaming wood lined the walls and the floor was black, fire-resistant tiles that opened up to secret tunnel. The room was the safest in the whole Hall, which is why the most important business was conducted within its walls. Today, however, no one wanted to begin such a touchy discussion and silence reigned for long enough, that Jungkook started to squirm. He felt like every eye was on him and the stress was making him sweat. Geordie, an older, bearded man, cleared his throat, breaking the awful silence and addressed the king. 

"I'm sure, my Lord, that our previous concerns have not escaped your notice?"

Jungkook looked up sharply. "Your concerns?"

Geordie cleared his throat again, having the decency to look slightly ashamed. Another counselor took up the charge. "What he means, my Lord, is that the esteemed Prince Jimin has been your highnesses greatest priority for the past six months and the people have suffered."

"How?" Jungkook glared and his response was clipped.

"Well...the interests of port trading have been brushed aside, and there is the ever present danger of attacks from the North-"

"Kaihenti Proper has not had any strife with us for the past seven years, Queen Seraph made sure of that. The interest of trading in our ports do not represent the interests of the people as a whole." Jungkook paused his rant, and his glare softened, shoulders slumping forward slightly. "Lord Fremont, what it the purpose of this? Has not reinstating my brother as rightful king always been the goal? Since when has that changed and where was I?"

The two men who had spoken looked down as well as most of the counselors, except the one to Jungkook's left. He smiled sadly at his king and leaned forward on his elbows, posture open and sincere. "It changed when we saw how much the curse is affecting him, and well you were shouldering this burden. It was always the goal to have Jimin serve as king, but the likelihood of that being possible was becoming less and less likely. My king, we urge you to consider your priorities once more."  
Jungkook hung his head and didn't see the looks of concern and remorse that passed between the counselors. They can toss him aside so easily, but I refuse to, he thought, his head still down. When he looked up, they all saw an understanding and accepting face, with words promising a reconsideration of priorities and new focus on state affairs. But Jungkook's mind had already left the council and was wondering and worrying about the figure making his way through the woods, far to the northwest. 

The paths in the forest burned golden at night. Jimin didn't know why, but he did know he was the only one who saw it. No servant who had ever come with him had seen it, no matter who it was. He thought it was just for him to find his way, at first, but it was always this way, every night. Servants had long since stopped coming with him, much to Jungkook's chagrin, but Jimin had assured him it was fine. Every night spent in the woods had made him more than comfortable, on one level at least, with where he was. The fae would never let anything happen to him on these paths, but the same guarantee didn't extend to any servants that accompanied him. The soft glow illuminated the wary glances he threw at the birches and aspens around him. Here and there, teardrop shaped crystals glittered in the trees as he neared the meadow. No human ear could hear the haunting melody that the ethereal figures there swayed to, but their movements made the most beautiful chaos Jimin had ever seen and he felt drawn. This dance had already begun; he felt late. A nutty smell permeated the air around each faerie and they dripped with magic. It seemed to ooze from the ground, throughout their whole form and settle in their faces. They shone like tiny suns. Jimin found himself moving through the crowd easily, though none seemed to need to move out of his way. He was in the middle of the meadow, each fae around him draped in gossamer of a myriad of colors, shining; the trees clustered with drops of shimmering light extending all the way to the forest ceiling. Out of the perceived silence, Jimin heard a voice, singing a haunting melody, strange and terrifying. Sallow, thin hands reached for him as their singing stopped, only noticeable in its absence. He now knew that the melody was slipping from his lips. This was the fae; endless songs, mindlessness, golden confusion, beautiful chaos. Jimin's song made his heart start to ache, to feel the magic seeping through his bones, but his feet were floating off the ground. He ached to stop singing, the melody wrenching his heart. He ached to sleep and never wake and never feel pain again. His heart felt like it was going to burst as the hands found their victim and the song reached its climax. Pain gripped him like a vice in contrast with the soft touches of their hands and he clamped his mouth shut, clutched his head, and fell to his knees in the soft grass. Touch, closeness, music, and magic was gone in a moment. Gone, like a thunderstorm, and now, kneeling on the ground, all he could feel was the grass underneath him, hear the soft chatter of the party, taste a bitter burn in his throat. He heard light footfalls, and glanced up. There was a man before him, towering over his hunched form, strange and powerful. His eyes gleamed like he knew a secret and the smirk that graced his angular face was knowing and it made his stomach drop.  
"Jimin."  
How does he know my name?  
He smirked again, then laughed outright. His mirth attracted the attention of the fae around them and suddenly hollow laughter surrounded Jimin on all sides. He couldn't take it; it was pressing and close and he wanted to cry and shout at them. His head was throbbing and the bright chuckles from this mysterious man made Jimin want to punch him.   
The anger and irritation were enough to propel him to his feet and the laughter stopped. He stood, dizzy but glaring, toe to toe with the man. He only came up to his chin but he hoped that his anger made up the rest. 

"How do you know my name?" he ground out.  
"I know lots of names, Jimin, why shouldn't I know yours? You were the most honored guest of the fae, after all."   
The smugness in his voice made Jimin's fists clench. He didn't miss the past tense of the word. Jimin spared a glance around him and realized the formerly favorable, even flirtatious attitude of the fae was gone. All he could see from their eyes was their great power and total willingness to use it against him if he so much as laid a finger in this man. The smirking man was completely relaxed, and Jimin could sense it. It was more than a trust of the creatures surrounding them: it was ease born of the possession of higher power. The man watched him closely as he came to his realizations. Jimin was no longer a favored guest, he was in danger, and the man in front of him was most likely the fire after the frying pan, but Jimin would take that chance. He didn’t have much choice, as he felt the strains of gold magic show themselves in the air, shimmering like eels, deadly and beautiful. Panic rose in his eyes as his throat constricted, the air around him pressing in even as the fae dispersed, resuming their dancing, lounging, and talking. Jimin fell once more to his knees, this time clutching at his throat, gasping for air.   
Pity was a foreign concept to Hoseok. He couldn’t remember a time when he was on the receiving end of it and he certainly had no time for it now. But it crept into his heart like a seed sprouting. Soft and subtle, but strong. He pulled from his mind a bubble to surround him and Jimin, just enough protection to ease the fae’s fire. It was ancient, powerful magic that could not only go against a fairies spell but underneath it, so as to be all but imperceptible. Hoseok extended his hand as Jimin looked up at him in vainly concealed wonder. 

“Jimin, your time here is over. Go back to your brothers and don’t seek the fae again for aid. Their favor is tempermental and they desire to use you, not help.”

“How do you know?” Hoarse and timid, Jimin’s voice betrayed him, but he trusted him, and it was unnerving. 

“Just go. What you see at night can’t be trusted but what shows itself in the day is honest.” His command was not unkind, but his tone spurred Jimin to movement. They left the clearing, Jimin noticing the lack of notice they received and the cause surrounding them. His head was down lost in thought as they walked in silence, till he remembered something the man had said. Jimin glanced to his left, but his companion was gone. The forest was dark outside the glowing bubble he was protected by and he was grateful it stayed even when it’s maker didn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

V

Jin woke from his painful rest with the unmistakable sting of metal pressed against his throat. A lazy smirk crawled across his face as his groggy eyes made out his threat. Pale skin made paler by the black clothes he wore matched with dark eyes that promised pain, made Jin pause inwardly, but keep up his charade of nonchalance for his attacker. He was slight and shorter than Jin, but he could just make out the telltale signs of countless knives under his coat. His voice was low, and gravelly when he spoke.  
"What's so special about you that the mousy wench needs to hide you back here?"  
Jin's eyes widened slightly as he struggled to stay calm. He forced a shrug. "What's it to you?"  
Yoongi growled in warning, instead of frustration, finding himself strangely intrigued by the injured man before him. He didn't have a mission regarding this man, he was just curious; he could do this all day. The tip dug in just a touch deeper, enough to remind Jin who had the higher ground here. Yoongi had been aware of Jin's presence on the highways around the little port town for some time now. He made it his personal business to know who this infamous highwayman was and who he really was. Yoongi knew more about Jin than Jin did. What he didn't get was the girl. Why would a lackluster spinster barmaid need to protect so ardently someone who seemed very capable of protecting themselves? Surely Jin had other people he could trust, others who would keep quiet about him for the right price?  
Yoongi's eyes narrowed. "It means nothing to me," he said, voice quiet. "But it does influence the preservation of your neck, so I'd say it means quite a lot to you, don't you think?"  
"I do have a penchant for attracting pretty women-"  
A drop of blood appeared as Yoongi's patience wore thin. "Except she isn't pretty, so cut the act."  
Jin managed an exceptionally casual sigh for how painful his position was. His shoulder was throbbing and he could feel his blood trickling down the column of his throat. Time was running out. He needed to get out and he needed to get his attacker away from Nora. He couldn't handle getting her in worse shape than she is. "An old friend."   
His words were honest and his guard was down. Yoongi watched as one shoulder slumped, the other staying tight with pain. He looked exhausted. "Suffice it to say, she owes me."  
"And why would that be?" he asked, softer, this time, and coaxing.   
Jin eyed how warily; he was tired but he wasn't stupid. "I saved her life once, many years ago."  
An old friend? "Victim of your profession who somehow earned your pity?"   
Jin shook his head; lying would get him nowhere. "An old colleague I should say. We sailed illicitly together."  
It clicked. The story he had overheard, two years ago, of the two cabin boys who somehow escaped the infamous pirate Crazy Mibs' crew had wound up here. The pirate was notorious for causing more havoc than was deemed necessary even by immoral pirate standards and his reputation as loathsome and inescapable had been tarnished by the disappearance of two cabin boys. Mibs had gone on a rampage in a northern port and killed hundreds. The story had circulated quickly, but the boys were never found. Until now. One was right in front of him and the other, he was willing to bet, was coming down the hall to check on her charge. Jin heard the footsteps a second after Yoongi did, and he froze, eyes wide on the door. 

After witnessing extremely strange and disturbing happenings in this establishment, Nora had learned how to conceal her emotions, especially surprise. So the sight before her, instead of prompting a scream, just made her want to cry. The shady man who had been watching her all night had a knife pressed to Jin's throat and his other fist pressing into his hurt shoulder, pining him back against the wall. Jin's face was pale with pain and he clutched feebly at the firm arm pushing into his wound. When she stopped short in the doorway, the man glanced to his left, one eye on her the other on Jin, but stayed oriented towards the wall behind the table. Jin's eyes screamed run but that was the last thing she could do and they both knew it. 

"What do you want?" Even in her moment of panic, she kept her voice low and tight, not letting her barmaid act slip just yet. There was still hope, right? 

The man grinned, and her eyes flicked to Jin, worried. "Just some gossip, that's all. Surely you can explain a bit better than him how the two of you are connected?" He cocked his head to the side, looking straight at her now. He really shouldn't have. Jin's formerly weak right arm shot out and grip the back of Yoongi's neck, digging his nails in as he slammed his face into Jin's knee. His left arm knocked Yoongi's fist away and pushed, sending him backwards but not before his knife cut a jagged gash down the front of Jin's chest and neck. He swung himself off the table, and out the door, disappearing into the dark morning hours. Yoongi shot up faster than Nora could run, and snatched her wrist, twisting her around to press her against his front, knife blade to her neck. His breath was labored from the fall and she could feel the blood dripping from his broken nose.   
"Where would he go?"  
"I-I don't know, I don't know where he goes."  
He released her with a frustrated and angry groan and leaned against the table. He could always tell when someone was lying to him, and she wasn't. Her voice had changed, it sounded natural. She was scared, and scared people don't lie very well. Anyways, a highwayman would have more than one haunt. His lackey wouldn't know where they all were, in case she got caught. He sighed.  
Nora backed towards the doorway.   
"Wait."  
She stopped. His eyes were dark, more mad than hurt. "Tell me."  
"Captain Mibs was my uncle. You know the story. Jin saved me from a fate worse than death." She paused, almost surprised by her own honesty. "Why?"

He glanced up, studying her face. It was open and not unkind. He could see what Jin saw in her, but he got the feeling that that wasn't quite their relationship with one another. "It's my job to know what no one else knows."   
She smiled ruefully. "I know." Quicker than he could react, her body was on his left, right hand gripping his wrists expertly, kitchen carving knife pressing into his throat. "Don't touch him again, and if you need to, talk to me. You owe me, now, Shadow. What's your name?"

Blood dripped down the blade and she let off a bit to let him speak. "Yoongi," he said, voice raw with fear. She nodded and left, releasing him fully, apparently satisfied. No one had given him the slip in years and now two people had done it in one night, one of them a girl. Yoongi groaned and picked himself up. He needed a real job, he couldn't just keep gathering information. He needed a use for it. After what was a bounty hunter for?

Jin stumbled through the streets, aimless and bloody. He didn't know if the man followed or not, but he couldn't take chances. He needed to find a safe place for the night, then he needed to go to the northern roads when he had regained his strength. How he was going to survive till then, he didn't know. It's not as if he hadn't gotten hurt before, but usually he could patch himself up and continue working. Well, robbing. But this was the second time he had foolishly depended on Nora and had endangered both of them. He needed to figure this out. He needed enough money to get both of them away, and far north, far away from the abusive tavern owner, far from any port, far from any danger. That's what he promised when they escaped together. That they would not just survive, but live. Thrive, even. What her uncle had instilled in them from such a young age would be washed away and they would start over. They would be happy, finally. He tripped and barely caught himself, his thoughts distracting him from the foggy street he walked down. A shadow moved soundlessly from the alleyway next to him and crouched down to help him up. Jin jerked in the strangers hold, alarmed at a second surprise attacker. But the cloaked shadow didn't attack but held his arms loosely, gently.   
"Please don't do that, you'll hurt your shoulder more." His voice was deep and soft. He was still, but anxious to get Jin off the street. Jin stared, eyes wide, mouth gaping. 

"I- uh...do I know you?"  
The shadow man chuckled. "No, you don't, but I know you Jin. Trust me please? I need to get you somewhere safe." He nodded toward the alley to his right. He was pleading, Jin realized , and he had no idea why this stranger cared about him enough to plead for Jin's own safety. But the creeping feeling of danger around any corner pushed his judgement to the side and he followed willingly as the man pulled him into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

The wind whipped through the town, rattling the tin roofs on the southern, sea-facing side, and blustering against the stronger wooden doors of the richer, northeastern side. Namjoon's flimsy door slammed shut behind him as he drug his bleeding charge into his tiny kitchen.   
"What the-"  
"Shut up and help me get him on the bed."  
Taehyung jumped up and slung Jin's other arm over his shoulder. They set him on the bed as gently as they could, but he groaned and his head lolled to the side.   
" He's lost quite a bit of blood." Taehyung's voice was calm and sure, and it was as if the calm had passed from Namjoon to him. As soon as Jin was settled on the bed and Taehyung was tending to him, Namjoon started pacing his tiny house, which was mostly kitchen, anxiously scanning old books and grabbing a different one each time he passed his messy wooden table.   
Taehyung inspected Jin's wound and grimaced. "Someone already stitched it. It got ripped up and I can't do anything but apply pressure. Have you got anything for the pain?"  
Namjoon stopped pacing just long enough to grab a bottle off the table and toss it to Taehyung, who almost face planted trying to catch it. When he righted himself, he shot a glare at Namjoon, who was back to pacing again. "You can't just throw stuff like this. Why do you have it lying around, anyways?"   
"It's fine." He paused, realizing what he just asked. "Tae, I knew he would come."   
Taehyung looked up from his ministrations.   
"What?"  
Namjoon face was careful, guarded. Taehyung stood slowly, his gaze open, but Namjoon could see his mistrust, plain as day. It was unnerving to see his friend look at him like that. He had known him for so long, had trusted him like a brother. And now he could see a crack, a chink in their relationship, growing bigger and bigger with every minute that passed. 

“You never told me you could interpret your dreams. Do you realize that could have-”  
“I know-”  
“No you don’t!”   
The tense atmosphere broke at Taehyung’s yell, and Jin jerked awake. The two men stood facing each other in the small room, one stiff and on edge, one meek and still. Jin recognized the one furthest from his as the shadow who helped him. After the alleyway he didn't remember much. His head hurt from sitting up and now everything else hurt too. The pain in his shoulder and on his chest had dulled to an ache now though, and he traced his hands over his bandaged wounds. 

"What's going on?" His voice was hoarse and quiet but the two men turned at his query. He glanced between them as they stayed silent, until the shadow sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.  
"Sorry, you don't need to worry about it. I'm Namjoon, I'm a ...seer." He glanced at the other man for a moment. He seemed sheepish.   
The other man brushed past Namjoon and took a seat at the table. He was frowning deeply, but he positively glared when Namjoon cleared his throat and gestured to Jin. He glanced up, "Taehyung," he said, and resumed his perusal of a random book from the messy tabletop. 

"I'm sorry to wake you up, that wound isn't gonna heal itself and you need rest." Namjoon drug a wooden chair to the side of the bed almost knocking the table over as he did. Taehyung flailed as bottles and books were jostled; Namjoon obliviously kept talking.   
"But perhaps it's for the best," he said sighing and taking a seat. Taehyung glared at the back of his head and Jin tried not to laugh. "I probably frightened you in that alley, sorry."  
Jin seems to realize what was being said. "Sorry? You saved my life!"  
"Well, yeah, but…"  
"But nothing. I owe you. Both of you." Taehyung glanced up as Jin looked to him as well as Namjoon.   
"Please. Don't mention it. It's what any decent person would do," Namjoon said, rubbing his neck, abashedly.   
Tae wanted to expose Namjoon, now that he knew he could not only see into the future and the past, but could roughly interpret their meanings as well, but he held back. The stranger didn't need to know everything. He would heal here, just enough so that Namjoon would be assured he would be fine, and then they would never see him again. There was no reason why he should know exactly how Namjoon knew where to be and when to save his life.   
Thought watching the two interact, Taehyung suddenly wasn't so sure of himself. In the time he had known Namjoon, he had always been too eager to help any poor individual that crossed his path. Even when, during their travels with the gypsy caravans, there was hardly any food to spare between them, Namjoon would give his half to a beggar on the road and go without, making Taehyung feel like absolute dirt. He never begrudged him for it, till now. Till the stranger might be a threat. He had heard of an infamous highwayman who matched the strangers description and the thought of harbouring a possible criminal made him uneasy.   
"Namjoon." Taehyung gently tugged Namjoon's sleeved as he finally left Jin's side, having finished checking his bandages. "Can we talk?"  
Jin was dozing, but his presence still made Tae uncomfortable, a fact that somehow escaped Namjoon's notice.   
"Sure. What is it?"  
"Namjoon. Can we talk outside?" He gestured to the door. His gaze was insistent and worried.   
Namjoon shifted on his feet, unwilling to leave his patient.   
"Please?" pressed Taehyung.  
"Fine."   
They slipped outside the door, and stood just under the stoop, the storm died down now with only a chill and wet cobblestones to show for it. 

Concern was evident on Namjoon's face as he closed the door behind them, but Tae couldn't bring himself to pity him for it. He couldn't afford to.   
"Namjoon, how long is the man going to stay here?"  
"His name's Jin."  
Tae sighed. "How long is Jin," he emphasized, "the possible criminal, obvious fugitive, who you just found bleeding in an alleyway, going to stay in this house." With every word he gestured angrily, losing his patience at Namjoon's obliviousness. "You expect me to stop by, say 'Hello, how are you? Oh, you can suddenly interpret your creepy dreams? And you're using that to save random strangers instead of the people who took you in?!' Of all the people who should benefit from anything you could have to offer it would be the gypsies. Or have you forgotten everything that was done for you? You love playing the hero until you actually have to face your past."   
As Taehyung had been ranting, Namjoon's face had become more and more hard, settling into a grim visage as Tae finally stopped. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about."  
His voice was soft, it did not match his face, and for the first time in a long time, Taehyung was scared of him. "Every dream is a nightmare, every prophecy that I can understand is living hell. If I see a whole town burning, vividly, horribly, I can't magically go to wherever they are and warn them. It could've happened years ago or it could happen tomorrow. You don't know what I've seen." He stepped away, and went back inside, leaving Tae stunned on the doorstep.


	7. Chapter 7

A mist rose a swirled around Hoseok’s feet, twining up to curl almost pet-like under his hand. The cave under the mountain was dimly lit by the burning lanterns scattered haphazardly around. The whole room reeked of magic and potions, papers of spells, little tendrils of mist twining through out, rustling the papers, as they playfully wove around the room. He stood still in the center, eyes closed; brow furrowed. Something broke the easy movement of the room, and, as though a silent call had been given, each wisp of mist shot to where his hands were lifted up as if to cup something. They swirled together to form a floating, writhing, mass which he coaxed to form what he saw in his mind. It started to separate until it resembled an intricate knot, loosened so each strand was distinct. Splinters seemed to come off each strand as the knot stretched and frayed, until it suddenly froze and shattered like glass. His eyes flew open and he shouted; loud and angry, causing the mists to scatter. Sometimes knowing so much can be more of a problem than a gift, he thought, frustrated. He set his mists to work gathering his papers into a leather bag with a wave of his hand, and shrugged on a heavy black cloak. The outside world hadn’t seen Hoseok in years and he didn’t want to cause a stir. Not yet. 

~

The barest touch of light was tinting the horizon when Jimin reached the edge of the forest. His feet were sore from the walking without the magic of the fae to ease the rough forest paths, but he welcomed the ache as it was not from a night and early morning spent dancing and pasting fake smiles on his drawn features. His safe, stifling tower loomed off to his left as he stepped through the lavender field that spread out before him, hazy and fragrant. The prince relished these precious moments of what felt like freedom as the rising sun brushed everything in gold.   
It had been so long since he had been able to enjoy a sunset. So long since he felt like he could enjoy anything. The weight of the curse followed him out of the nightly dreams and infected his day-to-day life. Mornings had been marked by revelry-induced exhaustion; evenings by the gut-twisting dread of the long night to come. Sleep had never been his friend, but now, as he walked leisurely towards the castle, relief settled around him like a blanket and his eyes shone with tears.  
The guards of the castle recognized their prince and bowed quickly to conceal their surprise. He wiped away his tears surreptitiously as he acknowledged them and stated he was here to see his brother. The stranger who had simultaneously threatened and saved him was someone Jungkook needed to know about.

Jungkook was usually up to watch the sunrise, that being one of his few moments of peace, but the events of the day before had worn him down. He hadn’t seen Jimin in a few weeks and, as worrying as it was, he was a bit relieved, as it meant he would not have to conceal the plan he had just set in motion. No king should ever have to stoop to illegal means to accomplish something, but Jungkook was desperate. He had to find someone who could help Jimin before it was too late. If Jimin got any worse, the council would never even consider him as king material. Jungkook sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face. He looked and felt like death and he hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet. A knock sounded at his door. He pushed himself out of bed as a messenger came in looking agitated.   
“My lord, the prince asks for an audience with you. He has important news.”  
Jungkook frowned. “Thank you. Tell him I will be right down.” The servant nodded, bowing as he left.   
Jungkook passed up the throne room for the more intimate comfort of his private office. The morning sun streamed through the many sea-facing windows and cast Jimin and his whole office in an ethereal light. Jimin turned and smiled softly at his brother, and for a moment Jungkook paused. His eyes were brighter somehow and his smile was kind, and just the tiniest bit hopeful. Jungkook hadn’t seen Jimin smile in what felt like ages, and he couldn’t remember that last time he saw him in his office with hope instead of dread on his pale face. 

“What?”  
Jungkook shook his head and closed the door behind him. “Sorry, just haven’t seen you in a bit. Your face takes some getting used to.” He shuddered in faux disgust and Jimin chuckled, almost shocking Jungkook out of the next thing he was going to say.   
“Sorry to bother you, I know you’re always busy…”  
“You’re never a bother, Jimin. You are my brother and rightful king, afterall.”  
Jimin sighed and turned to the windows. Jungkook continued, walking up to stand beside him, but slightly behind him.  
“One day, when you’re all better, I’ll be the one coming to you for advice.” He paused glancing at Jimin uneasily. “Or...whatever it is you came for.”  
Jimin looked up and shook his head, turning to face Jungkook. “No, not advice. Not this time. I met someone in the woods last night.”  
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Were you hurt? Did they attack you?”  
“No, I’m fine, he actually helped me.”  
The king frowned. “At the party?”  
Jimin nodded.  
“But I thought you were always safe in the fae’s company. That’s what you always told me.”  
“I know and I thought it as well, till last night. I still don’t really understand what happened.” Jimin started pacing as Jungkook took a seat in his chair, worried but trying not show it.   
“Kook, do you know of any sorcerors that haven’t been driven out?”  
“No. They are all most likely in the North, none would dare venture this close to the coast. Do you think he was one?”  
“That’s the only explanation I have. At the party, something weird happened but he stopped it. With magic I think, and the fae didn’t care.”  
Jungkook stood and went to his desk, his mouth set in a grim line. “I’ll send out a search. Though if he’s still in the woods, there’s no guarantee we’ll find him.”  
“What!? No, don’t do that! Jungkook, if he could overpower multiple fae in their own home, then you stand no chance. Besides, there’s no good reason to find him. Sorcerors keep to themselves for the most part, unless there’s a war or something.”

“Jimin, you can’t be sure. If he’s more powerful than the fae, he could be a threat to the kingdom." He paused and looked up from the paper he was writing on. "Do...do you really think I shouldn't?"   
His voice was suddenly soft and unsure, the confident king replaced by a young man looking to his older brother for guidance. Jimin softened a bit. Jungkook was always his little brother, then a king. But Jimin had slowly been resigning himself to never being king, but Jungkook hadn't. He still deferred to him and expected, even anticipated, that his position was temporary. Despite Jimin wanting to encourage him to lead, he took the opportunity presented. Jimin shook his head. "No, I don't think you should. If he wanted to kill me or harm the kingdom, he could have done it by now, but hasn't. That's has to mean something. I just don't know what yet. Let me try and find him, Kook. I have a feeling he won’t hurt me and maybe I can find out why. Maybe...maybe he can help me.”  
Jungkook bowed his head and sighed. “That’s sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Hey! I’m still older than you!” Jimin grumbled. “I’ll be careful, I promise. And if I feel like I need guards, I’ll take some.”   
Jungkook leaned against his desk, worn and worried. Jimin approached him and cocked his head. “When was the last time you rested?”  
His question was soft and caring but Junkook laughed ruefully and ignored it, turning back to his desk drawer. 

“Jungkook.”

“Take this dagger, you might need it. It’s enchant-”

“Jungkook,” he said, softly, “how can I trust you with a kingdom when you don’t even take care of yourself?”

“You can’t!” Jungkook burst out, tossing the sheathed dagger back on the desk. “You really shouldn’t Jimin, Prince of Calorsida, Heir to the Throne!”

Jimin stopped stalk still, staring, at his angry outburst. “I-I’m sorry, Kook. I was just joking.”  
Jungkook shoulders sagged and he dropped his head in his hands. It wrenched Jimin’s heart to see him like this. He so anticipated Jimin’s coronation, but it felt like it was slipping away. For Jimin, it was a relief; for Jungkook, it scared him to no end. He always felt inadequate, like this was some huge chess game that he was a hapless pawn in. He couldn’t be king, not really. It’s not what he was raised to be. He was raised to support his brother, not take his place.   
Jimin gently pat his back and leaned against the desk next to him. They didn’t say anything for a long while, sad, understanding, silence stretching between them. Jimin sighed and broke it: “I know you don’t want to be king.”

“What!?”

“Jungkook, please, I do notice things, believe it or not. I know this is unimaginably hard, unimaginable because I’ve never had to deal with the responsibilities that you have.”

“It’s ok. I can manage,” he replied, meekly, but he was relieved that Jimin seemed to understand.

“I know. You try so hard, I can tell. The people love you. The council does too, they’re just better at hiding it.”  
Jungkook chuckled, and Jimin sad eyes lifted a bit. “I...I just think you might…” he paused, uneasy as Jungkook looked up at him curiously. 

“What?”

“You are proving to be a great king, Jungkook. Probably better than I could ever hope to be-”

“No!” he pushed himself away and started pacing again, agitated and frustrated. “I’m not going through this again.”

“Again?” Jimin’s well-meaning rant stopped as he finished inspecting the rug, looking up at his brother confused.

“The council thinks you’ll never get better, but they’re wrong. Jimin, even if I’m the only one who still has hope, I won’t give up on you. I refuse to.”


End file.
